


Autumn

by masulevin



Series: who's gonna save us now / when ashes hit the ground [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: ALLEGEDLY, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: It's not really that cold, but she's acting like it's freezing outside. He's not going to argue.
Relationships: Sharky Boshaw/Deputy | Judge
Series: who's gonna save us now / when ashes hit the ground [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1485755
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27





	Autumn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chyrstis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyrstis/gifts).



> I wrote this way back in August 2019, but never bothered to publish it. Chyrstis asked for it after she finished "[Cold hands (but no cold heart here)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423666/comments/277772047)", so make sure you read that one too.

When he thinks about how touchy-feely she usually is, with the massages and the cuddles and the shoulders bumping by their campfires, Sharky knows he shouldn’t be as surprised as he feels when Mattie pushes right up against him in the bed in the cabin they’re staying in for the night, squirming until the blankets aren’t between them and she can tuck her body as tight against his as she can manage.

They’ve been in the Whitetails for a few days, steadily climbing higher up the mountains on some errand or another -- Sharky doesn’t care as long as she keeps letting him set shit on fire, which she  _ is,  _ usually with a grin on her face -- and even though it’s only September, the air smelled like frost before they broke into this little abandoned shack.

He shouldn’t be surprised, but he  _ is  _ surprised, mostly because he’s been thinking about her doing this more and more lately, each time wearing less and less clothing. He thought about it while they ate their cold dinner by a cold fireplace. He thought about it while they took turns cleaning up in the little bathroom. He  _ definitely  _ about it when she climbed into the bed first and patted the space next to her like they do this every day.

She grunts when he doesn’t respond right away, the noise kinda sounding like a whine, and that shakes him into action. He wraps his arms around her and lifts his chin so she can tuck her head under it. Her nose presses against his neck (it’s cold), her feet tangle with his (they’re less cold, mostly because of their socks), and her hands slip under his hoodie to press knuckles against the skin of his stomach (they’re fuckin’ freezing).

“Shit, shorty,” he gasps out, unable to suppress the shiver that runs through him. She giggles and nuzzles closer to his neck, stealing his breath for a couple different reasons he’s abso-fuckin-lutely not thinking about right now. “You tryna kill me?”

“You wouldn’t notice if I was trying to kill you, Shark,” she says, and that’s, uh, that’s not really comforting, but he can feel her breath on his throat and that makes him shiver again. “Just cold.” Her fingers flex and then curl into his hoodie, anchoring them together.

“It’s only, like, forty-five outside.” He’s just arguing to argue; they both know it. He wraps his arms around her a little more securely anyway, one hand up by her head to brush her hair away from his nose. “What you gonna do when winter gets here?”

She hums like she’s considering, rubbing her feet against his like she can’t bear to be still. When she starts to talk, her lips tickle his neck, and he bites his tongue and really  _ really  _ focuses on not getting hard, because this would be a terrible time to pop a boner, what with her all cuddled up against him and…

“You not gonna stick around once it starts to snow? Got a winter house somewhere I don’t know about?”

He snorts a laugh. “Still wanna go to Florida after all this is over,” he says, even though that wasn’t her question. “See some gators, sharks, some of those giant snakes people let out of their houses…”

“And who’s gonna stop you from getting eaten by a gator?”

His fingers card through her hair without his permission, and she makes a pleased little hum against him as she starts to relax. “You stayin’ here in the cold? What happened to ride-or-die?”

She shifts then, unclenching her fists and moving her lukewarm fingers around to rest on his back. She tilts her head up too, probably to get air that doesn’t smell like sweat and kerosene, but then she sighs with pleasure at -- something, the warmth he always gives off, the fingers playing with her hair that he was going to stop? -- and it sounds enough like a moan that his dick takes even more interest in what’s happening.

Shit.

“Mkay, I’ll keep you safe from gators if you keep me safe from frostbite. Got ourselves a deal?”

He doesn’t answer right away, brain all fogged up with how close she is, how good she -- okay, she doesn’t exactly smell good, not like shampoo or flowers or any of that shit, but she doesn’t smell  _ bad  _ either. She just smells like her. He tries to angle his hips away from her instead, but she just pinches his hip and pulls him back into her space.

“You getting cold feet?”

“Only one with cold feet’s you,” he manages, and she giggles against him.

Okay. He’s definitely fucked, and not in a good way.

He runs his fingers through her hair again and she relaxes again with another content little noises. He bites his tongue and focuses on the pain for a second. When he’s pretty sure he’s not going to pop a boner on her, he relaxes his hips and lets his chin rest against her forehead. He’s close enough he could kiss her if he wanted, thinks about it, thinks she might be cool with it if he did, call it friendly just like the way she’d call the way she’s glued to his front friendly if anyone asked, but he decides not to.

It’d be too hard to stop and he doesn’t want to have to. 

And. Anyway. He’s trying  _ not  _ to get hard.

“You know I got your back, Dep,” he says, voice sort of lower than he meant it to be. She shifts in his arms and presses closer, nuzzling against his neck again. He sighs and her hair tickles his cheek. “I guess I can keep it warm, too.”

She makes a quiet noise that could be a laugh, but she’s too close to sleep for him to be able to tell. “Thanks, babe. ‘S why you’re my favorite.”

Well. 

Shit.

He sure fuckin’ hopes that’s true.


End file.
